Under Your Skin
by FemaleOfTheSpecies
Summary: Sylvia Deane travels to a secluded cabin every winter to escape her work as a psychic detective for SHIELD. Things don't go as planned when Frank Castle takes shelter in a cabin a few miles away followed by a trail of men who want him dead. Their paths are going to cross, naturally, and it all gets a bit ridiculous.
1. The First Time Frank Met Sylvia

Sylvia was running as though her life depended on it which, she reminded herself, it did.

She wasn't sure where she was going but she was heading for the cover of the trees that surrounded the cabin. Her car was sitting in front of her own cabin which wasn't too far away. She figured that if she stayed hidden for long enough she could escape once things had calmed down.

She wasn't unfit but as she ran her breath was catching in her chest and she realised it was because she was afraid. Sylvia didn't get scared often but this situation was ticking the boxes. He'd shot three bullets at her as she fled - each had missed, but the last one had only just done so. Sylvia had been running for fifteen minutes or so when she couldn't hear anyone behind her. She paused to listen for any tell-tale signs of what might be going on. That's when she heard the footfall of the man who was chasing after her. He'd kept up.

Her eyes widened as the tall silhouette of a man came into view. She turned to run again but it was too late. She heard the whistle of the bullet as it ripped into her left shoulder and the force threw her forwards. She couldn't contain the pained cry that escaped her mouth as she stumbled onto the ground.

Loose pine needles lodged under her fingernails as she tried to push herself off up on trembling arms. She climbed to her feet but the man was right behind her. He pushed her onto the floor, forcing her onto her back so that she was facing him. Even though it hurt to move she kicked out on instinct as he levelled his gun at her face. Her clumsy kick connected with his wrist and he sucked in a pained breath as something cracked. Sylvia reached out with her mind as she tried to shuffle out of his reach but her head was fuzzy and she couldn't focus. He was levelling the gun at her again and she knew that it was too late this time.

But what followed seemed to happen in slow motion. The man raised his gun and pointed it at her face just as another man stepped into view behind him.

Castle. Sylvia stared at him and her assailant turned to follow her gaze just as a bullet tore through his head.

His body crumpled on top of her and his blood splattered across her face. Bile rose in her throat as she tried to wriggle out from underneath him. Blood was dripping down her arm, the edge of her vision was throbbing but despite this, she tried to climb to her feet. She failed to regain her balance and instead stumbled backwards, feeling someone catching hold of her under her arms just before she passed out.

* * *

Frank felt alarmed.

There was an unconscious woman in his arms, she was losing a lot of blood, and she'd just saved his ass.

He'd thought someone had been tracking him for a few days and he guessed it was a matter of time before he'd know for sure. He was right, of course. When he'd walked through the door of the cabin that afternoon the guy had jumped him and a fight had ensued.

At one point his attacker had managed to disarm him and pin him down. Frank had to endure the pain as the man smashed his head into the floor relentlessly. Before he'd been able to consider his options his attacker had rolled off of him and across the cabin. The woman (who had appeared out of nowhere) had smacked him around the head with a fire extinguisher. As Frank had laid there looking up at her in his dazed confusion his attacker had recovered and forced her to flee. It had taken a moment for Frank to climb to his feet and steady his spinning head before he was able to give chase to the pair.

When she woke up she was going to pitch a fit that he'd taken her shirt off but his intentions were honourable. He'd torn it in strips to bandage the wound on her shoulder before picking her up and carrying her back to his cabin.

As he had sorted through his medical supplies he'd heard a noise in the communal area of the cabin. The door had been wide open. She had come around and had bolted.

There was snow forecast and if she didn't find medical help she would die and although part of him felt as though that was her responsibility, another part of him knew that she hadn't done anything to deserve that so he gave chase. It didn't take long to catch up with her and Frank scooped her slight frame right up and threw her over his shoulder. She started to hit his back with her fists and he stopped on his way back to the cabin, sighing,

"Look, the way I see it is that you've got no choice but to come with me on account of your gunshot wound."

His voice was all gravel after weeks of not talking to people.

"Let me go!" she demanded in a hoarse voice, trying to wriggle free from his grip. Frank shifted the weight on his shoulder before carrying on.

"I know how this looks but I actually saved your ass back there in case you've forgotten. I removed your shirt to save you from bleedin' out. We're going back to the cabin where I'll tend to your wound. After that, you can do what you want. I don't care."

She stopped hitting him at that and, satisfied, he lowered her onto the ground and took in her appearance. There were pine needles in her hair and some strands of it had come out of the band that was meant to hold it back. The setting sun caught it and created a halo effect. It would have been pretty if it wasn't for the blood glistening on her face, neck and chest. She didn't look well.

They stared at one another like this for a few seconds. She was catching her breath which billowed around her face in steamy white clouds. Frank just watched her in a steady silence with a dark look on his face, wondering what she must see in front of her. A man? A monster? Did she know who he was? She started to shiver and he decided they should move.


	2. Frank Heats Things Up

It wasn't long before the shock had worn off. The woman had no choice but to suffer the full results of a bullet ripping its way through her shoulder. Without morphine. Frank wasn't jealous. He had to half carry, half drag her the rest of the way to the cabin.

"Please, please…" she was begging in a panicked voice while tripping over her legs in an attempt to run.

He knew that if she escaped his grip she wouldn't have a destination in mind as she ran. He had seen people out of their minds with pain before. It was when they were most at risk not only from their injuries but also from themselves. She'd freeze to death before she found help from anybody else. It was a built reflex when injured to find a space place, hide and that's what her body was telling her to do right now.

The cabin he had chosen was well away from the main roads and a fifteen-minute walk away from the lake. The interior was simple - a dining table dominated the main communal area. There were two sofas in the corner which formed an L-shape with a television on the wall opposite them. Along the wall next to the front door sat a kitchen counter with a small fridge and a gas oven with an open top range. On the other side of the cabin were doors that led to a bedroom with a double bed, and a separate small bathroom. There were storage rooms built onto the back of the cabin.

Frank sat the woman down on one of the sofas. He ignored her pained protests as he took hold of her upper arm and inspected the mess on her shoulder. The bullet had gone straight through but he'd been too optimistic that dressing the wound would suffice. He left her on the sofa and searched through the kitchen until he found the bottle of vodka he had been searching for.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god" she was repeating. Frank turned to look at her as he opened the bottle.

She was covering her shoulder with the hand of the other arm with blood trickling between her fingers. Her knees were bobbing up and down as the pain coursed through her body.

Frank took a gulp from the bottle and then searched through the bag he'd left on the dining table until he found the familiar knife he'd had in mind. Then he turned his attention to the stove and watched as the blue-orange flames came to life. They distracted him. He couldn't help but think that this was all rather weird.

Leaving the stove on, Frank picked the bottle of vodka up from the worktop and turned to face the room.

"Come here," he told her as he took a step forward.

She eyed him for a moment or two before she stood and warily made her way across the small room, meeting him at the table. She was eyeing the knife in his hands with a confused look on her face and she couldn't quite meet his eye.

"Sit down" he gestured at one of the dining chairs. She did as he asked, shooting him a questioning look as he handed her the bottle of vodka.

"Drink this. You're gonna need it" he explained as he moved back to the stove and placed the knife in the flames.

"What're you doing?" she asked and he turned to face her, his eyes finding her own.

"Sterilising it." He continued to stare at her as she raised the vodka bottle to her lips with a shaky hand. Her eyes never left his face and he snickered as she took a short sip.

"Need more than that" he prompted. She just stared at him for a short moment before taking four large gulps. Lowering the bottle, she inhaled deeply and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Keep goin'," he told her, turning to check the knife.

She didn't make a sound and Frank twisted his head to find that she was still looking at him. Fresh tears were running down her cheeks and dripping onto her chest.

"I'm not asking you to drink it for my sake. You'll regret it, not me" he told her. His words seemed to persuade her and he watched as she took several more long pulls from the bottle.

He was standing in front of her when she lowered the bottle this time. He registered the fear in her eyes as he took the bottle away from her and placed it on the dining table. Before she could question what was happening he grabbed her good hand, held it against her good shoulder and pushed her back into the chair. Then, without warning, he pushed the flat and red-hot surface of the knife against the wounded shoulder.

She gasped, her face contorting with confusion and horror before she screamed until she didn't make a sound. He felt her whole body shaking in pain as he cauterised the wound. She passed out at some point during the process and he had to hold her up. Removing the knife after ten seconds he reapplied it again for another ten seconds. He repeated this until satisfied.

Infection was the biggest problem but that was easy to fight. Standing, he grabbed the almost empty bottle of vodka and poured it over her now charred skin with care. He stood and observed the woman slumped in the chair for a few moments. Her head was lolled back, resting on her good shoulder. She looked so small and beaten. Blood was drying in streaks across her torso and her shoulder was red raw. There was blood dried in her blonde hair which was clinging to her damp face and her skin was an unhealthy pale white.

She was frowning, he noticed.

He carried her into the bedroom and settled her onto the bed and then opened a window. Frank stood still as the cool air washed over his face and lowered the temperature of the room. It had started to snow outside.

* * *

She would have given a leg to wake up to find she was in the facility in her bed and not in a dingy cabin. Yet, that's exactly what she discovered upon opening her eyes and there was no coming back from that.

She had recognised the man from the previous evening the moment she met his eyes when she sat up in the bed. He was sitting on a chair across the room from her and it took a second or two for her to process what was going on.

"Who are you?" he asked before she could even consider what she should do.

"What?"

"Who are you?" he repeated, not moving.

"My name's Sylvia."

There was a silence. Sylvia didn't like how heavy it was.

"Why d'you come here, Sylvia?"

He wasn't moving but his body language screamed of an alertness that some men get trained to develop. She knew with one quick sweep of her mind that he'd kill her in seconds if she tried to leave.

"You're going to think I'm fucking crazy…" she began, a deep panic settling in her stomach.

"Try me."

"Okay. Um… there's a neighbouring cabin that my dad bought back before I was born. I inherited it. I come out here every winter to get away from... stuff. I work for… well…" Sylvia swallowed and the panic in her stomach rose up her spine and made her scalp tingle. She couldn't tell him who she worked for. Why had she said that?

"This has no bearing on why I came here to help you because me being here isn't work related so don't freak out - but I sort of work with SHIELD and-"

Castle stood up and Sylvia hopped out the other side of the bed so that it sat between them and raised her hands up.

"I'm not an agent. I wasn't sent here for you, I-"

"Then how'd you know who I am?" Frank demanded, taking a few steps closer, reaching into his back pocket.

"Because I'm a fucking psychic, okay?" she yelled, backing into the cabin wall.

He stopped short and Sylvia continued,

"I live in a fucking warehouse in the middle of nowhere and work with SHIELD to predict catastrophes and crises and that sort of thing and I got winter off and this is where I came and then you came here and I sensed that guy was up to no good and I was going to leave because you're Frank _fucking_ Castle but I also saw what was going to happen and I thought you needed a hand so… so, that's... that's why I'm here."

She spoke faster than usual but she was defenceless and cornered by an annoyed Frank Castle. You didn't need to be psychic to know that was a huge disadvantage.

"You're… a psychic" he repeated.

"Yeah" she replied, lowering her hands after realising she looked a bit stupid with them stuck up in the air. There was a quirk on his lips as though this was all rather amusing.

There was a quirk on his lips as though this was all rather amusing.

"You're a psychic and you still got shot?" he was full on smirking now.

"It doesn't work like that. I have to concentrate and I wasn't exactly concentrating yesterday, so… yeah."

"This is bullshit... " Frank was shaking his head. Sylvia realised that if she didn't convince him she wasn't lying she was in trouble.

"I can prove it to you" she suggested, "have… do you have a pack of cards or something?"

* * *

That's how Frank Castle found himself sitting at the dining table with a deck of cards face down in front of him. Sylvia was sitting opposite him but facing away from him. She was hugging the back of the chair that she was straddling. Frank noticed a tattoo partly on show underneath the t-shirt he'd given her to wear. It was too big for her tiny frame.

"Are you ready?" she asked, twisting her head to the side to look at him.

"Don't cheat!" he snapped and she turned her head back.

"For the thousandth time, I'm not fucking cheating-"

"-okay, here we go" Frank ignored her defence and picked up the card from the top of the deck and stared at it.

"Queen of hearts" Sylvia exclaimed. Frank slammed it face up on the table, eyeing her suspiciously but she wasn't looking at him.

He picked up the next card and looked at it,

"Three of spades"

It joined the Queen and he moved to the next card,

"Seven of diamonds, four of clubs, king of spades, two of spades, ten of hearts, eight of diamonds, two of clubs, six of clubs, queen of spades…"

Frank sighed and took in the increasing number of cards in the 'correct' pile. He didn't know how she was doing it. He'd shuffled them. She had to be cheating. He stood up and moved around the table until he was standing in front of her. She looked up at him from where she sat on the chair with a curious look on her face.

"I'm not fuckin' cheating" she protested with an amused tone in her voice. He studied her face through squinted eyes.

"Get up" he instructed and she obliged, climbing off of her chair and standing next to it. She took a couple of steps backwards as he sat down. Frank scanned the room for a way that she could be observing the cards but there were no reflective surfaces. It was… troubling.

"Why don't you think of a card in your head and I'll tell you what it is?" she suggested quietly from his left. He looked at her and noticed for the first time that her eyes were a striking pale blue. Ice-like, almost.

"I can't cheat if it's in your head" she pointed out and he felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth,

"You'll use visual clues..."

"I'll close my eyes then" she shut both eyes as she spoke.

"Stand in front of me, in case you peek"

Sylvia opened her eyes and sighed with frustration but Frank didn't respond. He just watched as she moved to stand in front of him, facing away from him like before. She flinched when he rose from the chair and placed his hand over her eyes but she didn't pull away.

"Okay, Sylvia" he spoke into her hair after a moment of silence, "what card am I thinking of?"

"Ace of Diamonds" she replied immediately.

Frank dropped his hand and backed away, prompting Sylvia to turn around and face him. He kept backing away from her, scratching his head and frowning as he stared at her.

"So, you're a psychic"

"Correct"

"And you work with SHIELD"

"Yes"

"And you're here for the winter"

"I am"

"Jesus fucking christ…"

* * *

"I was about six when my… abilities, if you will, started to develop. My mum had died the year before and they reckon the trauma was a trigger for it."

Sylvia paused as she chewed on a bite of the sandwich that Frank had made. It had some sort of dried meat in it and there was coffee on the table too. Frank just listened in silence as he ate his own food. It was comically domesticated. They sat at the table as though they were just a normal couple or something.

"My dad was a petty crook. He made me figure out the pin numbers for credit cards that he and his friend stole. They emptied the accounts and that's how they made a living. But this bigger gang caught wind of what was going on and they killed my dad and kidnapped me."

Frank paused mid-chew, shocked, but Sylvia just shook her head when he looked up at her.

"It's all history," she said reassuringly.

"But yeah, I had to work for this gang for a while until I was thirteen and then SHIELD busted me out of there. I've been living at the facility ever since, helping to prevent disasters and stuff."

"Why did you help me, though?" Frank asked as he poured more coffee into his mug.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you work for SHIELD. I imagine you've seen my files - why would you help someone like me? If you were any of the Avengers you'd have arrested me and-"

"-I'm not the Avengers"

"What, you work for SHIELD but you don't tow the party line?"

A tense silence descended between them. Sylvia contemplated her answer while slowly chewing the last bite of her sandwich.

"I work with SHIELD and not for them" she began. Frank raised an eyebrow sceptically. "And although I support some of their ideas there's a part of me that thinks some people deserve what they get."

"Oh, you're the type of gal who gets off on vengeance?" Frank mocked,

"I dunno" Sylvia replied seriously, "I don't like violence. Something about living as a psychic slave to a gang of thugs for six years turns you off of it. But would I rescue the guy who made me go through all that from harm? This guy who murdered people in cold blood - my own father included? Who tortured people, stole from them, raped people? No. I couldn't."

"So you don't tow the party line?"

"I guess I don't tow the party line" she nodded.

"What would Stark have to say about that I wonder?" Frank asked with a smirk.

"Well, who gives a shit?" Sylvia remarked, smiling as she met his gaze. "Stark never had everything taken from him. His moral code is his own based on that privilege. Just as yours is yours and mine is mine based on our personal experiences."

"I'm a criminal. You've aided a criminal."

"You make it sound as though you wish I'd left you to have your brains bashed across the floor of this cabin"

"Maybe I do" he countered

"I don't think that's true, Frank" she replied, catching his eyes once more.

A silence followed as they both considered what was happening. It wasn't uncomfortable, though. Sylvia was always alone up here. When she had first sensed that Frank and his attacker were around she hadn't been all that happy about it. But it was nice to have someone to talk to who wasn't a SHIELD agent.

"They're going to come back, you know" she pursed her lips as she considered what this could mean.

"I'm counting on it," he said, leaning back in his chair,

"...and this doesn't bother you?" Sylvia asked, raising an eyebrow at him, but Frank simply shook his head in response.

"I think you and your fire extinguisher should go back to your cabin, though, to be safe. It's too late in the day now, but I'll drive you back in the morning."

They drank coffee and played cards as neither of them wanted to sleep. Frank wasn't entirely sure she wasn't cheating but he won a few hands which he as a sign that she was being honest. When the sun rose and chased the darkness from the cabin they both worked to tidy up from the previous evening. Sylvia didn't have a coat so Frank let her wear his despite her protests that she would be okay.

"It'll be easier if you go up onto the main road and then take the trail off to my cabin" Sylvia explained. As they drove only the sound of the snow beneath the tyres broke the silence.

It wasn't long before they reached the cabin that Sylvia had inherited from her father. It was larger than the one Frank had taken shelter in. Frank turned the engine off. The pair sat in silence, staring out of the windshield at the cabin that sat ahead of them.

"You know, I never did say thank you for helping me," Sylvia said, turning to face Frank. He looked back at her.

"I guess we're even" he replied after a moment's pause.

They climbed out of the car together and Sylvia unzipped the coat and handed it back to Frank.

"If you want to come in-"

"No. Thank you, but I'd best get back…"

Sylvia smiled and he watched her walk to the porch. She stood there and watched as he drove away. Frank had a feeling that he wasn't completely leaving the strange little psychic behind.


	3. The Second Time Frank Met Sylvia

It had been two weeks and a day since Sylvia had been in his cabin. Frank had stopped thinking about her as often as he had before but it felt strange to know that someone was so close and yet he felt so secluded. He'd come here to lay low though and it was best that he didn't interact with others. They always got hurt one way or another.

A supply run was long overdue and that morning the sky had been grey but clear and so driving conditions on the isolated roads around the lake would be good - not great, but the best someone could hope for. He'd filled the car with fuel, bought as much canned food and bottles of water as he could carry. As he'd approached the clerk Frank rehearsed the story about being in the area to visit family in his mind but the middle-aged woman didn't enquire.

"Been a busy mornin," she told him and he simply nodded in return. "Usually, it's just one or two people all day but you're the fourth customer this mornin' already." Her tone was chipper with some sort of Canadian accent that had become muddied with the local dialect over the years but it wasn't that which caught his interest.

"Really?" he enquired and she contiued,

"oh ya, had three men in here just an hour ago. Said they were going hunting up in a cabin somewhere. Told 'em they were out of season but they were Russian so they probably didn't understand."

Frank moved as quickly back to the car as he could without raising the suspicions of the woman whom he was sure was watching him from the shop. The roads were icy but he drove as fast as he could back to the cabin certain that the men would be in the area. He started to form a plan of how he'd return without alerting them to his presence when suddenly a figure darted out into the road ahead of him and he was forced to slam on his brakes.

"Sylvia?" he questioned as he watched the blonde haired woman run for the cover of the trees on the opposite side of the road to where she had emerged. "What the fuck?"

Frank reached for the door handle just as three men emerged, crossed the road and also disappearing. Frank didn't need to see the gun swinging at the hip of the shortest one to know what was happening. He reached into the back of the car, grabbing the two guns stashed there before jumping out of the vehicle and pursuing.

There were no noises to say where Sylvia may have gone. He stood as still as he could but he couldn't even hear the birds which suggested the men weren't that far away.

"Think, Frank" he whispered angrily to himself as he began to move slowly between the bare trees. He listened intently once more to the silence around him and it then occurred to him then that Sylvia was psychic. Could he... communicate with her somehow? He wasn't sure but he attempted to think as loudly as he could in the hope that it might work.

" _Sylv, where are you?"_ he thought, but nothing happened. He took a deep breath, cleared his mind and focused on forming a picture of Sylvia's face in his head, just as he had with the little card experiment all those weeks ago. The image that can to him was Sylvia sitting backwards on a chair, arms crossed in front of her on the back of it as she looked up at him - a weary-yet-cocky smile on her face.

 _"I'm not fucking cheatin'_

" _Sylvia, where are you?"_ He thought again.

It suddenly felt as though he had walked into a wind tunnel. A thousand sounds rushed through his head and as he closed his eyes a light storm played out on the back of his eyelids. Frank flinched and brought his hands up to cover his face from the onslaught that seemed to exist within his head. The noise began to fade and among it, Frank could hear a voice.

" _It's a trap, Frank"_

 _"I know,"_ he thought back. The rush of noise came a second time but this time, he was ready for it and it didn't make his eyes water.

 _"By the lake. Hiding."_

Frank didn't think twice before he was running again. He knew the men were looking for him and he didn't know what he'd do if Sylvia got hurt instead. They were virtually strangers but he felt as though the strange little woman had his back and although he was sure there was stuff she wasn't telling him he'd grown fond of her in the short amount of time they'd spent together. He'd dealt with dishonest and selfish people enough to last for three lifetimes and Sylvia seemed _nice_. He'd worked out to value what was nice in an increasingly hostile world, and to not take nice for granted.

He had a vague sense of where the lake was and it didn't take him long to cover the ground between the lake and the road. He stopped while still under the cover of the trees and observed the men standing together by the shore.

One was standing still by the lake edge smoking a cigarette as the other two moved down the shore in search of Sylvia. There were small boats moored up along the short every few yards or so. Some were fully enclosed and others had a tarp thrown over them. Frank had a feeling that Sylvia was in one of them.

He had options now. He could distract those assholes so that Sylvia could escape or he could shoot at them and hope for the best. Would he give her enough time to make the trees? Before he could decide, one of the men moved towards a boat as though he'd spotted something. Frank watched on in frustration as Sylvia had to leave her cover there. They yelled at her as she ran for the shelter of the trees but the man who'd found her was on her like a hungry dog. Frank broke his cover before the other two could join their friend. The first guy didn't see it coming - the two bullets almost blew his scalp straight off. He flopped down into the frozen slushy mud at the edge of the lake like a dead fish. His friend didn't even drop his cigarette as he turned to look at Frank who didn't think twice before filling his chest with lead.

The third guy had a blade held to Sylvia's throat. There was blood already oozing down her neck and staining the pale shirt she was wearing. He had a fistful of her hair and was pulling her head into his chest so that she couldn't escape the knife.

"Stay right there" the guy yelled in a Russian accent. "Put your guns down, asshole or the girl gets it" he ordered but Frank didn't move.

"I said put your guns down!" he shouted, jabbing the knife further into Sylvia's neck. She groaned in pain and Frank felt his fingers twitch in response. Yet, rather strangely, he felt himself complying with the order without wanting to do so. His arm was lowering.

 _'-the fuck?"_ he thought, and then he realised...

"I'm not a fucking damsel in distress" Sylvia hissed before she elbowed the Russian guy in the ribs. There was a sickening crunch as ribs broke and the man gurgled. Sylvia had the sense to bend down with the man so that the knife wouldn't hurt her. As she stumbled free of his grip Frank's fingers closed around the trigger without him willing them to and he shot the guy through the top of his head.

'I didn't do that' he realised.

Sylvia stumbled onto the ground, her hands going to her ears and Frank rushed to her and bent down on one knee, a hand going to her shoulder and pushing her upright.

"You alright?"

She seemed dazed and she had closed her eyes tightly. Frank placed his palm on her cheek gently,

"You're okay" he promised. She opened her eyes and looked down at the man on the floor.

"I saw his life flash through his head," she told him in a deadpan tone.

She didn't talk after that as Frank helped her off of the floor. Nor did she speak as they carefully manoeuvred their way through the trees and back to the road. Frank held her elbow as they walked to steady her but he had a feeling that she didn't need his help. He wanted to ask her how she'd made his hand pull the trigger, and what else she was capable of doing. He'd have shot the guy regardless but it was impressive that she'd lowered the gun so that it was positioned _just_ right for when the guy ducked down...

When they finally reached the road Frank made his way to the driver's seat and opened the door. Sylvia was still standing on the side of the road eyeing him cautiously, her hand pressed to her throat.

"We can go to my cabin..." he offered, not sure what else to say.

She stood there for a few more seconds before she approached and climbed into the car. Her eyes didn't leave his face until she was sitting in the passenger seat. They drove in an uncomfortable silence and Frank wondered what he had done so wrong to put her on edge like this.

It wasn't long before they arrived at the cabin in the same silence that they had travelled in. Sylvia exited the car and rushed inside out of the snow without looking back at Frank. He watched her disappear inside before climbing out of the vehicle. He walked around the car, grabbed the bag of groceries from the trunk and made his way inside. He hoped dearly that he wouldn't have to deal with a hysterical woman. He didn't know how to handle that, all things considered.

Sylvia was standing in the middle of the room with her back to him. Her arms were at her sides and he noticed that she was balling her hands into fists and then releasing them. As Frank closed the door behind him she turned to face him, that dazed look still upon her face. He dumped the groceries in the kitchen area and grabbed the small first aid pouch from the counter. He closed the distance between them and figured that she was in shock. He reached out and took her face in his free hand. Tilting her head back slightly he was able to observe the damage the knife had done to her throat. It wasn't as bad as it looked and it wouldn't scar. He pulled a large plaster out of the pack, peeled the backing off and applied it to her throat.

"You'll live" he assured her with a half-grin, fingers tracing her jawline. He turned and dropped the bag onto the table before observing her once more. His hands returned to his side and for once he realised he didn't know what to say.

"Thank you."

She broke the silence as she stepped towards him. Sylvia threw her arms around his torso and tucking her head against his shoulder. He returned the embrace. One hand finding her lower back, the other settling between her shoulder blades. He liked the feel of her against him he realised.

Suddenly, as though a match was thrown kindling, Frank felt the tension between them rise. The hug turned from a comforting embrace to something more as she pulled her head back to look up at him. He watched on as she raised herself up on tiptoes to capture his mouth with her own.

He allowed her to kiss him for a few seconds before pulling away and looking down at her with dark eyes.

"That's a dangerous game to play, Sylv" he warned.

He felt her tense at his words before she started to kiss him again. This time, he pulled her closer against his body as he hungrily dominated her mouth with his own.

She knew the odds, he figured.

Sylvia moved her hands to the nape of his neck. A moan reverberated from somewhere in her throat as she pressed her lips against his a little harder. They kissed as though they had been kissing one another for years. Frank realised that he'd wanted this. It wasn't long before she'd haphazardly removed the heavy coat from his shoulders. It fell onto the floor beside them. Frank slowly ran his hands up her ribs, lifting up her t-shirt in the process. His fingers trailing across her skin.

 _'_ _She needs to gain some weight'_ he thought. They broke apart long enough for him to pull the t-shirt over her head along with her bra. Their mouths met again and he ran his hand over the spot where the bullet had hit her shoulder. She hissed slightly, pulling away from him to catch her breath.

"Frank-" she warned but didn't finish as his lips were on hers again. He walked her backwards a few steps, pushing her against the table and trapping her with his hips. He lifted her until she was sitting on the table. Sylvia hummed into his kiss as he took hold of her left hip with one of his large hands. The other fondled her breast, his rough fingers grazing over her nipple. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she slipped a hand under his shirt. Her hand moved across his stomach as he moved his mouth from hers and kissed her jawline and then her neck, causing her to moan.

"Are you going to fuck me?" she asked, her mouth near his ear. He leant back and drank her dishevelled appearance in, his hands moving to caress the denim-clad thighs that rested either side of his hips.

"You know, that mouth will get you into trouble," he told her before picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom. He dumped her onto the bed in a not-so-gentle manner and she chuckled.

He watched as she wiggled herself out of her blood-stained jeans and shuffled her way to the top of the bed as he hurried to shed his clothing. He moved towards her before kneeling on the bottom of the mattress and grabbed her ankle, pulling until she was laying underneath him. She laughed with surprise.

They were both naked now and he knelt over her, knees either side of her hips. He admired her nakedness and the way she blushed at his stare before ducking down to capture her mouth again. Slowly, he explored her body with his hands. She arched her back, pushing her breasts into his chest and her hands found his back. He explored her stomach with one hand and ran the other hand up the inside of her left thigh. He didn't stop when he reached her groin. His hand found her clit and he enjoyed the way her breathing changed as he expertly played her.

"Are you wet for me?" he asked, arousal evident in his husky voice, but she couldn't reply. She had closed her eyes and he smiled as he used one of his knees to spread her legs apart wider.

"Fuck me, Frank" she purred.

He didn't need to be asked twice. He rocked his hips against her. Burying himself into her with a slow thrust, he quickly worked into a steady rhythm. His fingers tangled in her hair at the side of her head. His other hand found that sensitive spot between her legs again. The noises she made were hot and he stopped staring at her and kissed her hard.

Her hands went to his upper arms, fingernails scratching but leaving no marks. She moved her hips to meet his thrusts. He watched her face closely as he picked up pace, and she stared back at him with a look of pure longing. They were both breathing heavily, caught up in a weird staring contest as they fucked each other. Their bodies were moving in sync. Sylvia broke eye-contact first when he shifted his angle and pushed into her harder. He hooked one of her knees over his shoulder so that he could get deeper inside her.

"Fuck" he grunted and she called his name, it danced on her lips as though it were a forbidden word.

Their tempo soon increased. He felt all his control falling away and his thrusts because feverish as he built towards a crescendo. Frank felt Sylvia tighten around him as her climax gripped her. She threw her head to the side and moaned his name, her hands gripping the edges of the mattress tightly. He hadn't considered that she could look like this beneath him, that he would undo her like this. The feeling of her tightening around him was enough to send him over the edge and he came. He collapsed onto the mattress next to her and their legs entwined.

They lay like that in silence for some time. Sylvia slowly ran her fingers through his hair as they both watched the snow through the window. It wasn't long before Frank gave in and fell asleep.

When he woke up she was gone.


End file.
